


the ache of loving someone

by DevilishKurumi



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos rides a big dick, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil and Carlos have sex.  That's it, that's the story.  (Written for kinomatika's birthday - happy birthday wife!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ache of loving someone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinomatika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinomatika/gifts).



> kino's been yearning for some straight up porn, so i figured for her birthday, that's what i'd write! loosely based off of [one of her pictures](http://kinomatika.tumblr.com/post/59386857499), which is also pretty nsfw.

            Sometimes Cecil can hardly stand to look at Carlos for all of his perfection.  He reveals it in ways Cecil had never thought could get such a reaction out of him; sweeping his hair out of his eyes in distraction, turning just the very corners of his mouth upwards as though he doesn't believe Cecil or anything he says, but still listens, and that time he stubbed his toe and unthinkingly shouted curse words he'd picked up from old lady Josie in a language neither of them could place.  Everything he does carries a sharp pinprick reminder that he is perfect, to the point where Cecil just _aches_.

            But it's a good kind of ache, filling his heart and lungs with momentary bursts of cotton before settling down, and so he never wants to look away.

            Carlos always has a hesitance about him when he kisses Cecil, because - and he's told him this, laughing through the confession one night - he's not always sure that Night Vale isn't going to come between them and make something disappear, or reverse, or worse, _appear_.  Cecil had sort of always felt that way himself, but he'd never thought it was particularly weird, or even worth worrying about; it's just the way things are.  Carlos never grew up with it, though, so Cecil takes every available moment to kiss him and reassure him that everything is right where it should be.

            Carlos kisses his neck, hands pressed against the pane of his chest, his shirt almost completely unbuttoned and Cecil's long since missing.  When his hands slide down between the two of them, rubbing broad-palmed against Cecil's dick through his underwear, his knees slip over his thighs and settle there.  Carlos is in his briefs; Cecil doesn't remember exactly when he lost his own pants but they've been gone for at least a few minutes, and Carlos smiles into the dip of Cecil's throat, sucking a mark on his skin.

            They've never gotten quite this far, and so Cecil is at a serious loss as to what to do.  His heart keeps leaping with those painful aches every time Carlos's hand feels out the shape of his dick, or when his mouth presses against his skin, and it makes thinking impossible.  He's really turned on and he's not really sure what to do with this new arrangement.

            "You're huge," Carlos breathes, like he can't decide what he'd expected but maybe this isn't it.  Cecil's not really sure if he's supposed to be offended or not.

            "Sorry?" he says, pitching his voice to convey the message that he has _no_ idea how to take that.

            "Don't be," Carlos says after a glance toward his mouth as he raises his head.  There's that corner-lifting smile that makes Cecil feel completely overwhelmed, and then Carlos's hands find the elastic of his briefs, sitting up on his knees as he pulls them down.  Cecil feels suddenly embarrassed, in a way he doesn't think he would be if Carlos hadn't made a federal issue out of his dick, but before he can linger on it too long, Carlos presses his open mouth against Cecil's and slides forward on his knees as he tries to pull his own underwear off.  He manages without making a spectacle of himself, and Cecil realizes that he could be touching him right now; touching more than just Carlos's hair, or the wide ridge of his shoulder blades.  He shudders, feeling a little bit as though he's standing on a short wall that he's apprehensive about jumping, even if it's really just a few feet.

            He drags his hand down Carlos's side, feeling him jump a little as he does and marking the moment he found out Carlos was ticklish in his memory, and even though he isn't a stranger to this level of intimacy, being here with Carlos feels completely new and different from the times before.

            Finally, feeling a soft intake of breath against his mouth, Cecil wraps his fingers around Carlos's dick, feeling it out with uncoordinated, fumbling fingertips.  He feels something else, too - a strange recoil, just barely, the kind that comes with embarrassment.  He wonders if Carlos is feeling suddenly judged upon, just as Cecil had felt himself.  He don't comment on it, only swipes his finger across the faint curve in Carlos's dick and presses his thumb into the small indent just beneath the head.  Carlos's hips roll clumsily and he says, "Sorry."

            "Don't be," Cecil replies, and then he finds himself snagging a quick breath as Carlos's hand wraps around him and squeezes, firmly but gently.  He can feel Carlos's dick twitch in response to the noise; it's exhilarating to illicit that reaction from him and to feel it at the same time.

            He jerks Cecil off in slow, thoughtless turns and Cecil kisses him, over and over, trying to forget that breathing is something he needs to do.  Carlos mumbles words into Cecil's mouth that he makes no effort to figure out, and then he sits back against Cecil's thighs and takes a long, slow look at him, from his eyes to his chest to his cock, and Cecil can see that hesitating fear dissipating in his eyes as he stares.  He must realize that nothing's stopped this moment from happening, and that nothing is going to get in the way.  Cecil won't let it.

            "Could I ride you?" he asks, breathless but unhesitant, and Cecil aches at the way he bites his lip after he says it.  Not like he's worried he's overstepped some boundary - only that he can't imagine doing anything else.

            "Hell," Cecil says, pointing at his dresser instead of respond more coherently.  He takes the hint and Cecil watches as he stretches, reaching past of the edge of the bed all right but only barely reaching the drawer's handle, one hand trapped between the two of them while the other reaches up to run down Carlos's spine.  His breathing hitches in his stomach and Cecil feels it against his dick, Carlos's almost pressed against his own but not quite.

            He pulls out a condom, jams his finger into the edge of the drawer as he closes it, swears under his breath and then sits back up, slowly, until he's hovering over Cecil again.  He licks his lips as he tears the foil, his eyes darting from Cecil's dick to his face as though he can't decide which he wants to look at more, and it sends strange, heavy shocks through Cecil's body to know that he's watching him so passionately.

            He rolls the condom down over Cecil's cock; Cecil bites his lip at the sensation - not because it hurts or anything, but because he knows what it _means_. Carlos fixes his eyes on his as he does it, and then looks away as he reaches back over and fumbles into the drawer again, finding the bottle of lube and managing not to hurt his hand this time as he pulls away.  He thumbs open the cap and says, "Hold on," but Cecil grabs his wrist and catch his eyes.

            "Wait," he murmurs.  "Let me."  Carlos presses his face into Cecil's neck as he pushes up his body on his knees, settling just above Cecil's last pair of ribs.  Cecil holds out his hand and Carlos pours cool gel into the curves where his fingers touch, and every breath resonates between them.  "Relax."  Cecil doesn't think he needs to say it, but he does anyway.  Carlos exhales a chuckle and pushes fingers through Cecil's hair as he drops the bottle next to them.

            Cecil takes his time fingering him, feeling every muscle twitch and every gasp of air and storing them for later.  Every perfect thing about Carlos is condensed into one small sound and he doesn't want to lose that any time soon.  He lets Cecil work three fingers into him before he lifts his head to stare, hand pushing against Cecil's elbow until he reluctantly remove his fingers, seeing that momentary flicker of dislike as Carlos feels them slide out.  Carlos grabs the bottle and opens the cap again, pouring more gel into his own hand before sitting up.  He arches his back and feels out Cecil's dick behind his back, sloppily but thoroughly coating it.  His knees slide on the bed, to Cecil's waist, then lower, just enough, and he wraps his hand around the base of Cecil's dick and looks down at him.

            When Carlos presses down onto the head of his dick, Cecil can feel him spread apart for him, and the memory of what Carlos feels like on the inside surges through him and makes him shake.  He puts his hands on Carlos's thighs, then puts one on his dick, feeling him twitch in his palm and tremble above him.  Carlos hisses out a breath that catches suddenly in his throat as he sinks down onto Cecil's dick, his head tilting up, then to the right, his hips moving in short little shifts as he fills himself almost completely.  It feels like it takes no time and an eternity at the same time, but when Cecil's inside, all he can think about is how it feels.

            "Shit," Carlos groans, and even though Cecil doesn't find swearing particularly attractive, the way he says it, hissing and agonized in such a _good_ way, it turns Cecil on more than anything else.  He could listen to Carlos swear like that forever.

            He's still trembling, though, like maybe Cecil's too big for him, or maybe he just thinks he might be, and he doesn't move until Cecil slips his hands across his hips and cups them against his ass, pulling just slightly, like an encouragement.  Carlos groans and sighs and raises himself by the knees, slowly sliding up his cock and making this strangled noise as he does.

            Cecil tries to be quiet, but as Carlos raises nearly off of him, he finds himself whining, "Don't, _don't_."

            He stops.  Cecil massages the curve of his back with his fingers, pulls at him, until he slides down onto his dick with less of that agonizing slowness.  Cecil groans and says, " _Yes_ ," and then, " _More_ , please, _Carlos_."

            Carlos licks his lips and then smiles and presses his mouth against Cecil's, hips rolling like a wave at low tide, just barely providing friction.  "Please," Cecil groans into his mouth, and Carlos kisses him harder, maps out his teeth with his tongue and pushes with his knees as he rocks up and then back down onto Cecil's cock, never pulling more than half of him out at a time.  He licks Cecil's lips when he pulls back, his hands dropping from his hair and neck to reach behind and press down on Cecil's thighs.

            "God," Carlos says, and Cecil laughs a little until he rises off of him almost completely, the head of his cock barely past the ring of muscle.  Cecil stops laughing, and Carlos digs his nails into Cecil's thighs as he drops down, heavy, hard weight, his cock bouncing against Cecil's stomach.  A sob crawls out of Cecil's mouth, and he digs his hands in the sheets, suddenly out of control with the situation as Carlos rides his dick, hard, bare minimum strokes, his fingers flexing and his eyes closing.  Cecil can't find the presence of mind to do anything but pant and try to form words as Carlos fucks himself, the sight of him stunning Cecil like a blow to the head.

            Carlos pulls one hand forward, rubs his hip for just a moment, then wraps it around his own dick, trying to keep pace with his hips.  He's failing miserably but Cecil can't tear himself away from the image of Carlos on top of him, stroking himself with Cecil inside him, stuttered noises tumbling out of his throat.  He can't lift his hands, he can't move, other than the instinctual jut of his hips as he tries desperately to come.  Carlos says his name, " _Cecil_ ," in a warbling voice, and it makes him groan and grab for the hand wrapped around Carlos's dick, feeling the motions for himself before Carlos slips away, letting him take over. 

            Cecil matches Carlos's pace much better, and he know he likes it because he gasps and clenches around his cock.  Cecil can feel him stiffen and throb in his hand as he jerks him off, and he knows Carlos is going to come just before he cries, " _God, shit!_ " and comes in short spurts across Cecil's stomach.  His hips tremble and slow, and Cecil knows he's going to stop moving completely if he doesn't do anything, so he grabs Carlos's ass and keeps him moving until he manages to regain control.  Cecil digs his nails into Carlos's skin and says, "Almost, _almost_ , Carlos, ah -"

            "Come for me," Carlos hisses, and Cecil groans and finally feels that last boundary give way.  Cecil arches under him as he comes, and Carlos pets his side as he does.

            "God," Carlos says again, when his breath is back and Cecil's slipped out of him, "Cecil, _Jesus_."

            "You're cute when you swear," Cecil says with a small smile of his own, lopsided and probably too pleased with himself to be remotely modest.  Carlos sees it, but he doesn't seem to mind; he just pushes against Cecil's chest and then slides off, lying to one side.  Cecil looks at him as he sits up, and he can see, just briefly, that wall jumping anxiety in Carlos's eyes.  It's gone in a moment, and Cecil goes to the bathroom to clean up.

            When he comes back, Carlos is passed out, halfway in the spot Cecil had previously taken up.  He sits on the edge of the bed for a while and looks at Carlos's legs and his feet and thinks about what he's just done, and then he brings himself to jostle Carlos as he climbs into bed with him.  He grumbles but doesn't really wake up, and when Cecil's settled, he curls a leg over Cecil's and hunches into him as they both get comfortable under the blanket. 

            Cecil has no idea how long he has before he'll need to get up and deal with a new press release - it's never very long after he falls asleep - but he's going to use this time to stare at Carlos and enjoy that ache in his chest.  It's different, now that they're on this side of things, but it's still painful and amazing all at once, and Cecil is incredibly glad for that.


End file.
